Am I not worthy of a single thought?
It seems I am either plagued with many or abandoned with none.
How must it feel to have one solitary moment inside one's head?
Perhaps, comfortable companionship?
Or might one's heart feel so content that it would sigh, as you do when embraced?
Aching with perfume...
Oh how I long for that ache.
It is a foreign existence.
One which I rarely keep long enough to understand.
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